A couple of issues ago Tim Britton wrote about the alternative world of the Cretingham Crank Company in Suffolk. Here he gets to grips with one of the bikes.

Posing for a photoshoot is one of the most boring things in the world, you’re up and down one stretch of road for what feels like forever until the photographer, Terry Joslin in this case, decides he’s got all the angles covered. What makes it worse is when the bike, like this one, so obviously wants to be used at the top end of the rev range instead of trundling past a slow corner.
Just at the point when my brain is shutting down and I’m thinking about what to put in the washing machine tonight, Terry finally decides that the perfect shot has been taken and waves me in. “That’s it Tim, you can go and take a decent test ride now." Ta very much Terry, you’re all heart.
Let loose I can explore the potential that’s been hinted at as I did the posing bit and, with owner Gilbert Sills words “It likes to go," ringing in my ears I set off through Suffolk at a rate of knots.
I can see what he means as the ’67 Bonnie that forms the basis for the road legal racer has plenty of power to hurl the skimpy machine – and less skimpy rider – along very quickly. Tweaking open the throttle sends the rev counter needle round to dangerously near the brown masking tape that does duty as a ‘redline’ - stuck on at 7500rpm. No hesitation, no flutters, just clean acceleration all the way that launches me along the road towards the next bend – way too fast. On with the brakes and a little speed is knocked off, in with the clutch and down with the gear lever… OH! SH*T it’s got a reversed lever, somehow I get round the corner, footrest bouncing on the gravel. I’m thankful that there are high level pipes on this bike so nothing serious grounds and I can continue up the road and get my head round the up-for-down instead of down-for-down standard change.

Biffa grins for Joslin as he gets to grips with the racer…

With the power still feeding in, like crude blasting out of an oil well, I hit a patch of ripples on the Tarmac, normally, on my own Triumph I’d be all over the road and, to be honest, the panic button almost got hit. But, as I prepared to wrestle the expected tank slapper, while keeping a wary eye out for somewhere soft to land, the excitement was past and I thundered down the road probably helped by the hydraulic steering damper more than any high speed ability on my part. Now, this is great fun and probably the ideal that most owners of a sporty classic aspire to but few achieve. Read it here! This is how they are meant to be.
Mind you this particular Bonnie wasn’t always as good. As I hurtle along the country lanes I reflect on my conversation with Gilbert before my blast around Suffolk. “I bought it in 1974, for £230, thinking that I might get a couple of months out of it while I decided what form it was going to take. What a joke that idea was, I only just made it home before the main bearings cried enough." Gilbert had the bike up on the bench and the engine apart while it was still warm, only then did he realise how worn the internals were. Lifting the head he found that not only did the engine have plus 60 pistons but the bores were way past their service limits.
Things got worse as Gilbert pulled more of the engine apart, the big-ends were so worn that the rods almost rattled on the crank. But when he finally got down to splitting the cases and saw the bearings, oh boy! “I knew they were worn but when I saw how worn I realised that I should have maybe shoved the bike on a trailer rather than ridden it home," he says. The state of the engine caused a bit of a rethink to Gilbert’s plans and he went the standard rebuild route. With it running again Gilbert had a bit more time to plan his project – a lot more time as it turns out – and the Bonnie served as regular transport from 1974 until 1992.